I’ve found solace in my sketchbook throughout my life. In my childhood a means of play and expression. In my teens, a bolt hole from reality into which I would have most readily jumped in feet first and not looked back.
I rekindled my sketchbook habit back in 2010 when I was in my familiar black hole and needed to escape.
This comfort and silence. A non judging welcoming page, the smell and touch of crisp paoer. The sound of pen gently scratching lines that fill and dance through endless space.
I draw through line, space filled with cluttered thoughts and ideas. I am a drawer.
Be brave, come dream and make marks.
I learnt of the suicide of a beautiful mum I knew, (as an online friend) today. She left three young children behind in the world.
Life was too much.
It’s hit me hard as I’ve felt those dark thoughts too, I know a lot of mums do.
I’ve been drinking a lot of tea today and wallowing in past memories.
How do you pull yourself back from such a dark tunnel?
Small, heavy steps at first, find something to hold on to, anything.
I started this blog to pull myself out of depression, something to do as they say, something to focus on.
It feels like a bloody big mountain to climb when you’re at the bottom.
Sleep tight beautiful sister. Rest in peace.